The Lotus Flower Girl
Excerpt one

Sydney inhaled the crisp moist air of the Olympic skating venue. Under the brilliant lights, the ice took on the translucent glow of a polished moonstone. A confetti crowd streamed into the stands.

Sydney removed her hat and brushed a hand through her long blonde hair before making her way toward the press box. For the forty-nine-year-old small-town reporter, it was a Cinderella fantasy come true. Her duties at The Farmersville Chronicle normally involved writing a health column and doing some local reporting.

Things had gotten exciting when the Olympic planning committee selected a nearby locale as the site of the new winter sports complex. Drawing upon the Chronicles archives, Shed assisted the committee in developing a tourism database. That gave her the contacts to finagle an Olympic press-pass for the Womens Figure Skating Finals. But she didnt realize the most significant turn of events was yet to come.

After double-checking the number on her ticket, Sydney found her seat among an international contingent of reporters. She placed her attach case on the table in front of her, removed her new down coat and draped it over the chair.

The dark-haired man seated next to her extended his hand. Bellamy Guignard, E-EUNews.

Sydney Savant-Sato, The Farmersville Chronicle. She returned the gesture.

A pleasure to meet you. He sandwiched her hand between his palms and shook it. A local girl, I see. I took a tour bus to Farmersville a few days ago. Its a very quaint little town. He continued to clasp her hand.

Thank you. Sydney resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

He studied her firm lean figure. Do you skate? Maybe youre a retired competitor, no?

Not skating, Judo.

He smiled and let go of her hand. Ah, a feisty one! Ive heard that American women are, how do you say it wildcats.

Sydney laughed. Ill take that as a compliment.


Excerpt two
Sensei Musashi muttered, I wouldnt want to be competing against some of these steroid freaks of today.

How are they fooling the drug tests? his wife asked.

Frank turned to Dr. Sun. Whats your take on this?

The drug testing committee has always been years behind the curve on doping. What Im seeing just doesnt look natural to me just a gut feeling I guess.

Steroids then?

Or something. Sad to say, steroids are kids stuff now. In all my years working as a doctor, I focused on sports medicine and wellness. I firmly believe that good nutrition and exercise can do wonders for the body. However, too often, I see some high school athlete who thought that he could take a short cut and use steroids. Dr. Sun shook his head. They end-up suffering the consequences of disturbing their bodys delicate biochemical balance. This steroid plague has around in sports for decades. However, from watching the news recently, I am afraid that there might be something new, something much worse out there.

Sydney took a deep breath and jumped into the conversation, I was thinking, what if they used biotechnology?

Elaborate, Frank said in his curt military voice.

At the most basic level, fitness is simply an alteration in gene expression. Physical activity signals cells to change their level of expression of various genes. Changing gene expression changes physiology.

And gene expression is? Frank asked. His eyes were focused on her.

If the genes are the recipes of life, then gene expression is how many batches you cook-up, Sydney said as clarification. Theoretically, if you artificially alter gene expression, you could be physically fit without exercise.

That seems difficult to imagine. Frank lowered his eyebrows as he contemplated the supposition.

The discipline of forms practice offers benefits beyond the physical, Dr. Sun noted.

True, Sydney agreed.

How could it be done? Franks intense, blue eyes looked like lasers. It was an unwavering gaze of focus and concentration that often rattled his opponents at Judo tournaments. Sydney wasnt rattled, rather she was drawn in by them.


Excerpt Three
Frank roared as he charged the brute whod hurt his woman. The man threw a hooking punch at Frank. The old SEAL trapped the arm and pivoted into a drop-knee seoi-nage Judo throw flinging the man on his head.

POP!

The heavys weight combined with the force of the throw had been too much for his neck vertebrae to bear. The mans body twitched spastically, then stilled.

Frank crouched down to check on Sydney. The rest of the group gathered around them.

Her eyes slowly opened. My head!

Take it easy.

Ahh.

Can you see okay?

Sydney held her head as she struggled to a sitting position.

Rest there a moment.